Childhood's End
by MeZaKi93
Summary: Corruption hidden behind Golden Age, morals clash through a system made in the illusion of perfection while some just want to survive. In a world where friend can become foe in a matter of moments, there is only one logical outcome: war. Pre-war AU.
1. Chapter 1

**That's it. A new story. This is a pre-war AU that is set in the G1 universe and contains elements from IDW and TF:Prime. I have the storyline pretty much planned out, though random ideas and changes can occur, I know where I want to take it. As university/college (I don't know which you call it) is starting soon, and I want to write That Thou Art Mindful of Him as well, updates will be irregular and can be long apart. I am sorry for that.**

**I have thought up a long description, but I already forgot it. xD I hope you will enjoy. :) Copyright is, unfortunately, not mine.**

* * *

~I.~

This way of execution was rare to be found nowadays in a civilization that considered itself advanced beyond such things. The so-called Golden Age would not see the use of these methods, especially not something thought to be the remains of a more savage era that they had evolved above. Yet, when a public execution, reserved only for the most dangerous criminals, was announced by the Senate, many bots came to see the event. Some out of curiosity, some because it was necessary, some because they were afraid and some just wanted to give the robot in question some consolation for the last time. It happened every time like this.

Jhiaxus' execution was no different.

The older Cybertronian, once Dean of Science at the Academy of Mechanical Sciences, stood upon the stage in front of the crowd. His spark chamber was opened, his soul bared for everyone to see, yet his face remained devoid of emotions. Some of his old students objected to this humiliation, but their request eventually went unheard. Jhiaxus was subjected to spark suffocation and the de-fusor had already been positioned to his back. A service drone stood behind him, one hand on the switch, waiting for the sign to start the procedure.

Shockwave did not see it. Did not hear the backround murmur of the crowd, did not hear his former fellow students talking quietly next to him - he couldn't tear his optics from his old teacher. He stood frozen, features just as straight as the other scientist's except for a small, worried frown that crept onto his faceplate. Despite how long they had known about the judgement, he could not make peace with it, not to the extent his master did. No matter that almost everything had been arranged, that they had talked through it several times, Shockwave yearned for nothing more than to talk to his master one last time.

But even Jhiaxus' comm. link had been disabled ever since he had been put in prison. The last time they spoke was deca-cycles ago, before the Senate made its final decision. Being judged by the Senate itself meant a serious crime and huge punishment, generally made quickly and reminded suspiciously of the martial law of histories. Jhiaxus' crime was, in fact, rightfully serious to make many Cybertronians side with the senators for once.

At first, it started out as a theory on Jhiaxus' part. He was the one to put into words what he had seen and analyzed from stellar cycles spent as a genetical igniculicist, examining their species. The Cybertronian race, in its current state, was an evolutionary dead-end, he said. Stagnant without much of an improvement for the last hundreds of vorns - even though a lot believed there was nothing more to improve, however, such societies could not last long. It would soon start to degrade and fall into chaos, vulnerable against outer dangers by the illusion of perfection and confidence they gained from it. The need to develop, to evolve, to become _better_ had somehow got lost from the collective conscience. Such civilizations would soon become stuck, unable to move on and that would result in further tension.

The only logical outcome would be rebellion.

He only received some threats for this, and his publication about the matter was soon prohibited. The Senate, putting forward its image of constructive functionalism, of course, started keeping a close optic on the Academy after that and sent enforcers to investigate several times. It was during one of these surprise visits that it was discovered Jhiaxus had already began experiments on how to improve the Cybertronian race; with transformers, supposedly volunteers, as his subjects.

He did not let them know that the crime was not only his. The old scientist had a mnemosurgeon change and rearrange his memories and took the blame. After all, they theorized with Shockwave... someone had to continue his work.

Only Shockwave knew. He was the one Jhiaxus entrusted with this secret. He was his best student, his mentor always said, and more than eager to follow in his footsteps. He promised his master he would never give up his beliefs. After all, science held the answer to every problem. And logic was the key to achieve them.

The whole Senate was there, with Sentinel Prime at the front. Lots of them wore satisfied expressions, and Shockwave failed to notice the few who were frowning or fidgeting in discomfort. Distress was evident on their faces, but their presence were requiered - not for any specific reason, just to strenghten the view in the crowd that they were all doing something good for them by eliminating this threat posed under the name of science by the otherwise renowned mech. Rich and common were separated, police officers kept order as the moment grew closer, and Shockwave just watched.

Jhiaxus offered him a small smile. Nothing more passed between them. Shockwave could not hear the order, just see the drone suddenly come to life behind his teacher and move to the de-fusor. He did not want to watch, yet his optics were drawn to the older scientist's spark as the device started working and the life-giving energy, the physical entity of his soul shrank in its chamber.

Jhiaxus' optics flickered and his vents heaved a last, shuddering breath before his body went limp and collapsed on the stage. It was clean and fast - already over right after it started. Yet, despite himself, Shockwave's own blue optics widened in terror and his intakes hitched, his digits quickly curled into fists to stop his hands from shaking. He willed himself to remain strong, for his master, but he couldn't help the tremors that ran through his chassis.

A hand landed on his shoulder.

"Shockwave..." his friend's voice brought him back to reality and he quickly tore his gaze from Jhiaxus' lifeless body to look at his former partner. Wheeljack's optics were wide, too, a trace of coolant shining in them and he pulled the other mech into an embrace. Shockwave buried his face into his shoulder and tried to calm down his ventilations. It must have been just as hard for Wheeljack, too. They were both students under Jhiaxus at the Academy and graduated in the same class, but only Shockwave stayed there to continue working.

"What's going to happen?" Wheeljack's quiet question followed their separation.

"The Academy was allowed to function... under stricter supervision." Shockwave answered in an equally hushed tone, "I will be the new Dean. My inauguration will be in two deca-cycles. Will you come?"

Wheeljack just nodded, seemingly lost in his thoughts, "They questioned me, too... even came to my lab once to take me to a questioning." he murmured, glancing carefully at the enforcers escorting away the leaving senators and advisors. The crowd was slowly dispersing around them.

"But you didn't know anything." Shockwave stated, his voice once again seemed calm and collected, now that his back was to the stage, "You should be safe at the Kimia, 'Jack."

"And what about you?" Wheeljack asked his former classmate and finally turned to the third member of their small group, a young femme. She was still just aa intern in her final year, but she became good friends with the two mechs while they still studied at the Academy, all three students of Jhiaxus - and she seemed to be the most broken of them. Her intakes were hitching softly and coolant streamed down her silvery faceplates, causing Shockwave to wrap an arm around her slender shoulders.

"We'll do our best... to take care of ourselves." he whispered, and, refusing to look at the body of their former master, he pushed the femme gently, "Come on, Flamewar. Let's go back to Tarn."

Wheeljack stayed behind and watched them go. He heaved a great sigh and rubbed his optics. He knew Shockwave was suffering under that cold coat and calm mask of his, he knew him better than that. He swallowed it all down, trying to drown his emotions in logic, but it wasn't that easy to erase them. As Shockwave walked away, Flamewar's smaller chassis pressed to his, inside his spark a raging fire of fury coursed around, like magma in a sleeping volcano, just waiting, waiting for the moment to erupt.

And the eruption would be catastrophic.

* * *

"Welcome back home, Senator Starscream! Shall I–"

Starscream quickly hushed the jet with a wave of his hand and the mech backed away with a bow. Thundercracker followed him inside the tower with a sigh and even Skywarp saw it better to stay quiet as they made their way towards the personal quarters. Everyone bowed on the way and stood aside to let the senator and his trine pass, except for one flyer, whose wings lifted slightly when she caught sight of them.

"Starscream!"

The red Seeker looked up when he heard his name and forced on a little smile before spreading his arms to hug his sister. Slipstream melted into his embrace, even though she could feel how tense her sibling's frame was. Before she could have said anything, Starscream broke it and with voice only a murmur, he said, "I'll be in my quarters."

And with that, he left the other Seekers and was soon gone behind a pair of doors. He was quiet, too quiet for Slipstream's liking, and even though she knew the cause of this uncharacteristic behavior, she did not expect it to have such a huge impact on Starscream.

"Was it really _that_ bad?" she whispered, only to receive a huff from Skywarp.

"Well, seeing a spark extinguish before your optics is not a pretty sight." the purple flyer muttered, "And you know how fragging sensitive Screamer can be."

"But it's just because he agr-"

Thundercracker quickly hushed the younger Seeker and moved closer to them, "Not here, 'Stream. _Scientifically_, he may have considered some of Jhiaxus' theories, but I have to agree with Skywarp. Starscream _is_ too sensitive for such things."

Slipstream sighed, "Alright, but we shouldn't leave him alone. Not in this state."

"I'm calling Skyfire." Thundercracker offered, "He's usually the only one he listens to. And maybe we should follow Starscream's example and return to our quarters. It is late."

Slipstream gave a nod and they shared a quick kiss before turning away to walk to their separate quarters. Thundercracker did not miss the expression on Skywarp's face when their optics met, no matter how he wanted to hide it, and he let his gaze linger on the other flyer just a moment longer than necessary before entering his room.

Starscream took a deep vent from the crispy air of the evening over Vos and leant back carefully. After Jhiaxus' execution, he insisted on flying back to Vos instead of using a ground bridge and his trine mates agreed, to let his head clear a little before returning home. Gazing at the darkening sky from the top of his tower never failed to calm his nerves, yet now they kept boiling inside his head. He frowned unconsciously as he watched the faint light of an orbital station pass through the sky, nothing more than a steadily moving star from this far and while intent on letting his mind wander with it, Starscream found his thoughts always returning back to the events of the afternoon.

He was distracted so much, that he didn't even hear the - surprisingly - quiet steps of the space shuttle and the larger mech smoothly lying down next to him.

The Senator of Vos turned his head to the side to gaze into Skyfire's tender optics. The other did not ask him anything, knew him well enough not to. They lay in silence for a while and it was Skyfire in the end who broke it.

"Queen Nacelle wants to see you tomorrow."

Starscream let out a snort indecorous for a noble like him, "Looking forward to it."

Skyfire allowed a small half-smile to his lips before continuing, "In fact, she wanted me, too, but..."

"But?" Starscream turned to him to give his full attention to his intended endura.

The space shuttle took a deep vent, "She wanted to ask me to be Minister of Science."

"And you declined." Starscream raised his eyebrows, already expecting Skyfire to nod. Now he sighed, too, "But why? You've been head of the Astronomical Division for stellar cycles. You're _good_, Skyfire, and she knows it, too. You would be perfectly fit for that position."

After a moment of silence, he added, "I don't see why you won't jump at the opportunity. It is great tribute, and you deserve it."

"But I'm not the leader you are, Starscream." Skyfire turned to him, "You're great as a senator, but I... don't think I could take such responsibilities. I'm not as strong as you are."

"Believe me, I don't feel strong right now. I did not vote for this to happen." Starscream stopped again before he went on, "You're just not as ambitious. You're satisfied with your lot. It was me who wanted more."

"And are you satisfied now?"

Starscream looked at him deeply, letting all the exhaustion and sadness onto his faceplates as he slowly shook his head.

"No."

* * *

Kaon was just like he imagined.

Of course, when he was still working at the InfoCore, Soundwave had access to many files about the city states of his home planet, but Kaon was not of particular interest to him. Soundwave liked to course through data from the various places, and sometimes he did catch interesting conversations from Kaonite transmissions, but he kept them mostly to himself - he was concentrating on other things, that was just something to pass his free time. However, nowadays he did not have those connections. He just had to rely on what he had collected over those lost stellar cycles when he still had his job.

Kaon was not an ugly state. Not like how the news and gossip portrayed it, though they held some truth as well. But Kaon had its beauty, too, with its rounded, ancient buildings and narrow, quiet little streets with hidden fuel stations. When he and Frenzy stepped out from the ground bridge onto the station, it looked like any other big city; nice and cultured. Even as he walked the main streets, he could not feel many differences. Just when they crept further did they see what had generated all those rumors.

Soundwave was ready for this. He knew all about Kaon from the InfoCore. But seeing it all with his own optics, first-hand, was a different experience.

"Creator," Frenzy's quiet voice reached his audios, the mini-mech leant against his waist, "rest, please."

He was right, Soundwave thought. They had been wandering for joors, walked from Stanix, and even with the ground bridge it must have been thoroughly tiring for him in his condition. Soundwave sighed and looked around. They were in a more abandoned area, just a few 'bots lingered here and there, all seemed to be unkept, homeless transformers - just like them. Soundwave finally found a lone bench and guided Frenzy there, helping the small mech lie down on it.

"Maybe we should stay here for the night." Soundwave muttered and searched in his subspace. He picked out a small energon cube and gave it to Frenzy. His creation took one sip from it and gave it back, Soundwave put it away. He himself was low on energy, too, but they had to make rations in order to save more. He would still have to feed his other creations who currently resided in his chest compartment, and the credits he had would have to be spent on energon, too.

They were getting used to sleeping on the streets anyway.

Soundwave opened a small panel on Frenzy's chest to check the mini-con's temperature. He was overheating a bit, but Soundwave decided not to activate his cooling fans yet. He was resting now, and it would go back to normal - even drop too low, maybe, as the evening grew chillier around them. It had been routine for them now; it had been quite some time since Frenzy's processor ceased registering the changes in his temperature, among other things, and his thermostat and fans had to be activated manually.

"You really think it'll be better than Stanix?" he heard Frenzy whisper and Soundwave looked deep into the smaller, duller optics. They had talked through it with his other creations as well several times.

"We have to try, Frenzy." he answered, and added in a murmur, "At least no one knows me here. Tomorrow, we'll go to the DataNet nexus and I'll look for–"

"Hey, mech, what are you doin' here?!"

An unfamiliar voice bellowed from the side, and Soundwave was surprised he did not sense them. He must have been too preoccupied...

The dual-spark stood up and eyed the three mechs. They weren't much taller than him, but just one glance at them told Soundwave they must have been a part of a street gang. Their paint jobs - what remained of them - were blistered and various scars adorned their chassis. They wore hostile expressions and their thoughts were none the less tamer.

Luckily for Soundwave, he knew their kind.

"I apologize." he spoke calmly and relished in the shock that struck them, "We weren't aware we were trespassing within your territory."

"What's with the fancy-talking?!" another of them exclaimed, "Are ya one of those elite scum?"

Soundwave felt Frenzy's anxiety grow in their bond, but he soothed the young mech.

"No." he answered politely, "We are just searching for a place to recharge."

"Well, you ain't no doin' it here!" the first mech spoke again and took a step towards Soundwave, raising a fist, "Tell your brat to get his aft up or else–"

However, before he could have struck, with precision he had mastered over the deca-cycles, Soundwave grabbed the mech's wrist mid-air and squeezed it as strong as he could. The mech gasped in pain and the other two also took a step back in surprise. Soundwave could sense their shock at the move and the dark expression on his face as he leant close to the first mech, never loosening his grip on his wrist.

"You will not touch my creation." he said, his tone the lowest and most menacing the three Kaonite had ever heard.

A sickening crack was heard and the mech screamed in pain when Soundwave released his wrist. He held the broken joint to his chest and stumbled backwards, terror plastered all over his face as he looked up at the looming figure of the dark blue mech before him. Soundwave's features were hard and he raised his scorching amber optics on the other two, daring them to advance closer.

"Go." that simple word, spoken in that cold, emotionless voice and a telepathic push, strenghtening the fear they felt was finally enough to drive the three mechs off. Soundwave took a deep vent. He did not like to pick fights, but when one walked the streets cycle by cycle only for a place to recharge, they had to be ready for everything. This Soundwave had a hard time learning among other things. This was an easy round.

After all, no one could threaten his creation.

"Elegantly delivered."

Another voice, this one much calmer, deep, and carried no intention of fight. That was also the first thing Soundwave checked among his thoughts when he saw the mech the voice belonged to. He was standing by the side of a building and watched the dual-spark with delicately contained curiosity. This mech was taller than him, bulkier and looked much stronger, intimidating, yet Soundwave did not feel the same hostility from him that he felt from the previous ones. He wore thick armor and a helmet that reminded Soundwave of the energon miners, and had a code written on his chest which was hard to make out among all the scars.

The mech walked slowly up to them. Soundwave stood firmly in his place, shielding Frenzy from the stranger when he stopped a few steps from them, eying both of them up before speaking calmly,

"You have a Stanisian accent," he said, "and from the way you talk, you're not one of these wastrels here. You scared them away quite nicely. You must have experience."

"What is your intention towards us?" Soundwave finally asked, still trying to see more inside the stranger's mind. It was apparent he had quirked his interest, and the mech saw something in him, but his thoughts were faint, as if they were carefully shielded...

"I heard you were searching for a place to recharge." he gave the straight answer, "And as I see, your companion could use medical attention, too."

Soundwave turned back to Frenzy who had since stood up from the bench, but leant heavily against it. The cassette was shaking, wide optics darted from his creator to the stranger, intakes in deep ventilations. Soundwave crouched down next to him to steady him.

"Are you making an offering?" he asked, turning back to the large, grey mech.

"You obviously mean no trouble, and you don't seem like you have been out on the streets for long. I know a place where you can reside, at least temporarily. My designation is Megatron."

"Soundwave." the tape deck nodded, "Where is this place?"

Even before any words could have left his mouth, a thought crossed his processor that Soundwave managed to detect: the arena. From what he knew of Kaon, there was only one place that the citizens called arena, and there was where the gladiatorial combats were held. Kaon was one of the few places where an officially registered gladiatorial arena could function, granted because it was almost like tradition for its people. Within a nanoklick, Soundwave understood why the mech wore that armor; he was a gladiator.

A small smile graced the mech's - Megatron's - lipplates and he turned around to point at a tall, round building. "See that one over there? That is our arena. We can even give you a job, until you can stand back up a little."

"Creator," Frenzy spoke up quietly, "a-are you sure..."

"You need to rest." Soundwave replied, and activated his comm. link, _And we're in no position to refuse right now._

_Have you read him? You think he can be trusted?_

_For now, yes._ With that, he stood back up and turned to Megatron, "Alright. We'll go with you."

Megatron nodded and led the way, slowly to give time for Soundwave and his creation to catch up. When Frenzy stumbled, Soundwave saw it better to pick him up; he did not have the strenght to walk any more. Soundwave thought about letting out his visor and switch to night vision as the evening grew darker, but they soon reached an area where the street lights were actually functioning.

"Do you work there, too?" Soundwave asked quietly, and even though he knew the answer, he had no intention to reveal his telepathic abilities just yet.

"Yes, I am a gladiator there." Megatron turned towards him, his optics glowing a deep red as if he, too, wanted to read the other mech, "Does this make it any less favorable to you?"

"Not at all. You have been the first to offer shelter for us, for which I am grateful." Soundwave nodded, "You also mentioned that I could... get work there. Did you mean... fighting?"

Megatron hummed, turning back to the road, "Do you want to fight?" he asked casually.

Soundwave did not answer immediately. He had read about these gladiatorial combats, and they usually ended with at least one of the mechs dead. They were brutal and ruthless, much more complicated than any of those small fights he had to partake in with agressive street punks, and Soundwave didn't think it would be wise to engage in such bloody sports. Even with his telepathy, he could sustain serious injuries, and he couldn't afford to spend the credits he earned on medics for himself. Frenzy needed them more - and he had to be there for his creations.

But if he could get credits... He didn't have much choice.

"I do what must be done..." Soundwave murmured, "until, as you said, I can stand back up a little."

Megatron gave a nod. They were nearing the building now, and it was also what Soundwave expected from the informations he had about the Kaonite Gladiatorial Arena; it was quite clean, a colossal, rounded building with another, smaller, square one next to it that was part of the complex. Megatron now pointed to it, "That is the gladiators and staff's personal quarters. The medical ward is located behind it. I have already comm.-ed the owner of the arena, he is willing to recieve you."

They stepped into the square building. It was dull on the outside and just as dull in the inside as well. The walls were dimly lit in the evening and no one lingered around as they passed through the doors and reached an elevator. On the first floor, they stepped out straight to the first door, the biggest so far and Soundwave assumed it was the owner's office.

"You are not alone in this situation." Megatron said still back on the way, "Many robots come here either because they lost their jobs and became homeless, because they won't or don't want to find anything better... Here, they get a home, energon and credits if they fight well. Of course, what you get to hand is not that much; half of the amount you earn you have to pay back to the Master for your quarter and energon, another part for the medical care you need. The mechs who were sold to the arena are in worse position, because they cannot leave until they pay back all the credits that have been spent on them. But the better you are, the more credits you earn. It depends on the audience, they put their credits on you. It takes time, but you can eventually make a living."

Soundwave was aware the gladiator was coaxing him to join in the fights. He must have impressed him with how he made those three mechs run, and thought he might help with this offer. Soundwave let the words circle around his processor. It was an easy opportunity, too easy, and the price was written all over Megatron's frame. He must have been one of the better fighters to have survived so much.

The door whooshed open to reveal a mech as tall as Megatron, but he did not wear armory. His paintjob contained green, dark blue and grey and even though he wasn't armed, he looked equally strong as the gladiator. He wore a frown, but it straightened immediately when he saw Frenzy in Soundwave's arms.

"Come in, all of you." he murmured and ushered the dual-spark into his office. He pointed to a chair for Soundwave to sat Frenzy down, the mini-mech looked somewhat calmer now and wasn't shaking anymore, his dull optics looked up nervously at his creator, silently asking him if he was still sure about the whole thing. Soundwave gave him a curt nod to reassure him before turning back to the robot he assumed was the arena's owner.

"Should I call a medic?" the mech asked as he eyed up Frenzy, but the mini-cassette shook his head slowly.

"No, thank you. I was just tired." he mumbled and looked up to see the gladiator named Megatron walk up to them.

"Master Onslaught," Megatron spoke to the other mech, "I told Soundwave and his son they could stay for at least a cycle until they decide about their further plans."

"I see." the owner, Onslaught said, turning to Soundwave, "I can lend you a quarter with two berths and personal wash racks for one night cycle. Of course, if you want to join the combats, the place is yours. That is, if you are good and can make it out alive. You'll have time to decide."

"If I join, I can stay as long as I want?" Soundwave asked carefully, "Can I resign and leave if I want it?"

"If you are ready to face the risks. The first fight, if you survive it, will decide whether I can take you as one of my gladiators."

"I accept your terms." the dual-spark turned towards Megatron once again, "And I challenge you to a fight."

Frenzy's optics widened and Onslaught raised an optical ridge at Soundwave's statement. Only Megatron seemed unfazed and their optics locked, not even broken by the master's voice as he started to protest, "Now, that's not that simple. Megatron is our champion, your first fight must be with a weaker gladiator and-"

"I think we can make an exception this one time." Megatron interrupted, his tone even and calm, a smile hiding at the corner of his lips "I accept your challenge."

"Creator, don't!" Frenzy pleaded quietly just as a ping from the door told them someone asked for entrance, "You don't have to do this!"

"Ah, Crasher," Master Onslaught turned towards the newcomer, another mini-con. She bowed her head slightly and gave Soundwave and Frenzy curious glances, "These are our newest residents. Lead them to room 103, please."

"Yes, master." she said, knowing well enough not to question her superior's decision, and looked at the two mechs again expectantly, waiting for them to follow her. Soundwave helped Frenzy down from the chair, the mini-mech could walk by himself now and glared up at his creator as they left the office to their new quarters. Megatron and Onslaught stood in silence for a moment after the door closed, and it was the dark blue mech that spoke up first in a hushed tone,

"Lord Megatron," he whispered, "do you really think he will make it?"

"He's brave." he answered, still looking towards the door, "And he is a creator. He is willing to do everything in order to give his creations his best. He did not reveal much about himself, but from our conversation, he seems to come from at least a middle-class. Another victim of the system."

"You want him as a new recruit, don't you?"

Megatron gave a nod, "He is a dual-spark. I have met a few before - they are usually experts at communications, and we could use that. But, of course, this is all Soundwave's choice. The most important thing for him at this moment will be his sick son, and we cannot push him into something he doesn't want. For now, we must give him the freedom he has been robbed of to choose his own fate."

* * *

**Notes: the word "igniculus" is latin for "spark, flame". Igniculicist means an expert on sparks. I also made Nacelle female because... well... that name just sounds too feminine for me. xD And we don't really know much about him, so I thought I'd use him in this characterization.**

**Also, time:**

_Klick - second_

_Breem - minute_

_Joor - hour_

_Solar cycle (simply: cycle) - a whole day_

_Deca-cycle - week_

_Mega-cycle - month_

_Stellar cycle - year_

_Vorn - decade_, **all in Cybertronian equivalents.**

**I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. :) Much more is on the way. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Neeext chapter. :) When I uploaded the first chapter of this story, I said to myself I would continue if there is at least one person who will in some ways tell me it's worth it. So, even if it's not very popular, I will continue this story. :) _Starfire201_, I wanted to thank you for your review personally, but I couldn't for some reason. :S But I thank you here, and the others, too, who faved and followed.**

**Anyway, I will slowly introduce characters and even more slowly their back stories, but all things will be revealed in due time. I'm not good at describing fights either, we can say I suck at it. But I tried. Hope you like it, and sorry for grammar errors and such.**

* * *

II.

"Come in, come in, we don't have all cycle!"

Soundwave stepped into the medical ward of the arena and gave a light push on Frenzy's back towards where the other mech ushered them. The mech was taller than him, mainly black and grey in colour and sported amber optics, just like him. He wore the universal insignia of medics on his left arm that, along with his paintjob, seemed quite worn even though the mech couldn't have been much older than him. But then again, they weren't in the best shape either.

The medical ward was smaller than Soundwave expected for such a large stadium - or just less spacey, he thought as he and Frenzy walked past the berths lined up vertically next to each other on either sides, leaving only a narrow passage into the bay. Despite all the medical machines, which just made the place even more crowded, it looked more like a field-hospital, the berths separated only by curtains. Very few mechs walked between them here and there who wore the medics' sign, the others were green and purple coloured, roboust mechs that Soundwave recognized as construction 'bots.

Were they meant to be replacement for the medical staff?

As the black medic led them to a further berth, Soundwave saw mechs on the berths, some were in stasis, hooked to the support machines, others were awake, but still in quite bad shape, full of dents, scrapes and patches while a few appeared to be just receiving the last checks on their chassis and armory. They glared at them, but Soundwave closed them out, he wasn't interested in their thoughts in the least - they finally reached an empty berth where the medic stopped them.

"Alright," the mech picked up a hand-scan, "I'm Chief Physician Flatline. Which one of you is Soundwave?"

"Me." the dual-spark said curtly, "This is my son, Frenzy."

"Ah. And the both of you will fight?" Flatline asked, plunging the scan's cable into the medical port on Soundwave's neck while his optics focused on Frenzy, noting the dullness of the mini-con's optics and the faintness of his EM field, "Or, I take you are simply unwell."

"Yes, I..." Frenzy looked up at his creator, then back at the medic, "It's Rossum's disease."

A frown worked its way onto Flatline's faceplates, "How advanced?"

"Stage three."

"If we stay," Soundwave spoke up quietly, "I want the medical staff to know about it and... at least treat the symptoms."

"The symptoms, alright." Flatline nodded, "Just because here, we are not equipped to provide long-term treatment for diseases. We here specialize in treating injuries. I, myself, am a trauma surgeon, though there are a few medics, like Pulse and Stormbringer who had their own specific fields before coming here. If you came here because of this, I'm afraid we can't help you."

"I came here to get credits for Frenzy's surgery and therapy."

"Well," Flatline raised an optical ridge as the scan finished its task, "becoming a gladiator is not that simple. I believe you are driven by noble intentions, but even if you survive your first match, you have to achieve numerous victories for the crowds to like you and earn all the credits you need. It will be a long time. And you will have to kill, too, to get what you want. Do you really think you are ready for this?"

"If this is what have fallen to my share... I shall live to it."

The ward's chief physician sighed, "You are low on energon and coolant, and your joints could use some lubrication. You have some unhealed dents, but otherwise, you're in good health. I see your spark had split three times, and the marks on your gestation chamber indicate you carried twins once. I want to check your other creations as well. I have to ask... do you have any experience with this kind of combat?" Flatline now connected the scan to Frenzy's port.

"I have participated in brutal fights before. Do not worry about me."

"You sure have confidence for a newbie." Flatline said with a chuckle, but it was soon replaced with a frown again, "Well, Frenzy, the same applies to you as to your creator, and... the condition of your spark and processor correspond to a third stage Rossum's. Your T-cog is no longer functional. Can you still read your fluid levels?"

"No." Frenzy shook his head and let the medic open the same panel on his chest they used to check on his temperature, "Alright." Flatline murmured, "I'm keeping you here for an energon drip and coolant change. You," the medic turned back to Soundwave, "I'm fitting you with armory and a battle mask. After that, Cliffjumper there will show you the weapons you gladiators use."

Flatline pointed to a red mech by a further berth. The mech was a tad shorter than him, a pair of horns decorated his helm and there was a hidden, mischievous sparkle in his light blue optics that Soundwave could distinguish from anything else - it was the same glint that Rumble and Frenzy had in their small, crimson optics that reminded Soundwave of his sire. The mech, Cliffjumper sent a nod to him and the dual-spark nodded back.

Flatline first prepared the energon drip for Frenzy before applying the mask to Soundwave's faceplates. The mech tried not to squirm under the medic's touches, he never liked to be touched in such intimate parts by others but his creations, not even past lovers could give him the comfort he sought. It was hard for him to be open, let alone fully bared, both physically and mentally, before any other than his children.

"Okay," Flatline took a vent, "Lugnut and Drixco's match starts in half a joor, so you're getting your armory now. If you want to keep the colour blue, Punch's armor will be good for you. Your sizes are the same, too. And Cliff, there's really no need for you to gawk your optics out here."

"Wait... is this Punch guy dead?" Frenzy asked quietly from where he lay on the berth, and after receiving a grunt from Flatline, he pushed himself up a little on his elbows, "You use dead mechs' armors to put on others?"

"And their parts for replacements." Flatline replied before turning away, "Welcome to the arena."

* * *

"...and that's the extent of the energon axe's energy range. That is what we use most of the time. Of course, in a hand-to-hand combat, you'll only have your armor."

It had almost been a joor until Cliffjumper finished introducing every weapon the gladiators had to Soundwave. Not because there were so many; even as they entered the storage area where these deadly tools were kept, the telepath felt the gladiator's fascination for them as well as his love for using them. He was more of an expert at how to handle them than combat styles, and he kept on explaining everything about these weapons that were mostly used for close combat, Soundwave did not even dare interrupt Cliffjumper's monologue - if they had had guns, the blue mech was sure they would have been there till the evening.

However, at that moment, Soundwave caught a fleeting thought in Cliffjumper's mind, a quiet feeling and the picture of a broad storage with a wide rage of weaponry of various kinds, guns, blasters, cannons and rifles and it wasn't just some longing on the other mech's part. It was a memory file.

Maybe that area was their next destination...

However, with that, Cliffjumper turned around to him, placing his hands on his pelvic plating and tilted his head to the side a little to express curiosity.

"And? How did you get here?" his tone was casual, but Soundwave's frame was still tense.

"We were wandering in the area with my son." he answered quietly, "Megatron found us and invited us to the arena. He told me I can get credits if I fight well."

"Yeah, yeah... well, you'll see what it takes. But if ol' Megs thinks you're good, then you must know something." the red mech shrugged, "I also lost my job. Worked in Polyhex at the metallurgical plant, designing weapons until one cycle... there was an accident. One of my guns malfunctioned. I killed an enforcer. Even though judges acknowledged it was an accident, they made sure no one employed me from then on. Soon lost my home, I had no one, and I was wandering through city states, too, when I found the arena. So, what's your story?"

Soundwave starred at the mech. He thought they were going to the other weapon storage, but Cliffjumper did not seem intent on going anywhere else. The dual-spark thought about whether he was ready to tell about his past to this still somewhat stranger, though he was an intelligent one and they shared some of the same fate; he had an educational degree, a decent job that he even liked, and lost it all due to an accident to never gain it back again. Not even the chance - after all, the judges served directly under the Senate.

"I was a communication specialist." Soundwave finally said, "At the InfoCore, Stanisian Sector." he saw a knowing smile appear on the gladiator's lips.

"Oh. Knew too much, huh?" he asked, to which Soundwave did not reply, "I see... InfoCore. Now I understand why Megatron wanted you." the last part he just mumbled, but Soundwave's sensitive audios picked it up. He frowned, but before he could have asked anything, Cliffjumper beat him to it, "And who will be your first match with?"

Soundwave took a moment to answer, "Megatron himself."

He watched as Cliffjumper froze and his optics widened, all other thoughts forgotten in his surprise at the blue mech's answer, "What?! For a first match? Mech, you just came here to die?!"

Soundwave's amber optics narrowed, "You are quick to write me off. I know what I'm doing."

"Yeah, sure, sure, I don't know you after all, but... Megatron's the champion here, you know? And for a reason. He can be quite ruthless, and he won't hesitate to kill you if the audience wants that. What'll happen to your kids if you die here?"

The telepath just glared at him until Cliffjumper raised up his hands in defense, "Got it, none of my business. Well... it was good to know you, Soundwave. Have a nice day."

With that, he walked away and Soundwave also made his way back to the quarters given to him. He did not pay any attention to the mechs he walked past in the corridors, though he received quite a few curious looks and glares as well. He now had his new armor on, a dark blue one which was thick and a bit heavy for his frame, but still fit him perfectly - he was sure he would get used to it. The reason for the darker looks, he knew, was that he had gotten one of the "elite quarters" as the other gladiators called them. Most of them got small ones with one, two or three berths with one energon dispenser to keep their rations in, and had to use public wash racks. But Soundwave wanted to make sure he deserved what he got.

They knew nothing about him, but he could get from their thoughts and emotions whatever he wanted. And after his fight with Megatron, they will not underestimate him anymore.

All the medics had given him their comm. frequencies after Flatline told them about Frenzy, and he left his cassette at the ward until he received all the energon he needed. Soundwave typed in the code to his quarters and the door hissed open, revealing a small room. There were two berths in it, a case between them, an energon dispenser and another door to their tiny wash racks. It wasn't much, but it was good enough for them, and a thousand times better than the streets. The window was open slightly, and Soundwave glanced around to find his three remaining creations sitting on their berth in silence, Rumble and Ravage starring at Laserbeak intensely before they noticed him.

"Hey, Soundwave!" Rumble leapt to his feet with a grin, "Me and Rav jus' finished exploring the arena."

"The entire arena?"

"The whole complex!"

Soundwave couldn't help smile a little. Ravage was a better spy, but the twins liked to go with him and judging from the fact they had never been caught and how much they enjoyed it, Soundwave knew they were becoming better as well. However, he turned to Laserbeak now and lowered himself to one knee before the berth to be eye-level with his only daughter.

"Have you succeeded?" he asked and received a nod from Laserbeak. A klick later, the cassette transformed and Soundwave opened his chest compartment for her. The moment she was inside him, the downloading process began. Earlier in the morning, before he and Frenzy went down to the medical ward, Soundwave sent Laserbeak out to find a DataNet central and search for every information she could find about these gladiatorial combats. Words, pictures and videos all flashed before Soundwave's optics, the whole procedure took no more than a few klicks.

"Thank you." Soundwave smiled a little when Laserbeak transformed back to her robot mode.

_Creator_, Ravage's voice filled his comm. link, _I'm still not sure..._

"That you should do this all for us." Rumble finished his sentence, his tone turning serious, "I mean, it's nice ya got a job... sorta... but there are sure other ways to get credits for Zee... Are you sure you can defeat this Megatron guy?"

Soundwave smiled at their worry. They knew what he was capable of, they all had to change a lot since they lost their home, and they were always very understanding and loyal. There was no underestimation in their minds like others when they asked him the same quiestion, but it seemed they needed a small reminder of just what powers he possessed.

The dual-spark pointed at his head that was also covered in a dark blue helmet with small crests on its top and his optics shone brightly, "I have something they don't."

* * *

"Ratchet... you should come."

The older medic's vents whooshed as he looked up at his apprentice. Only First Aid could enter his office without permission, but sometimes even that was hard to tolerate, especially when Ratchet finally had a little time for paperwork. However, seeing the look on his fellow's faceplates - what he could see from his visor - told him that he would have to leave it unfinished again. He should really hire someone just to deal with the reports...

"What is it that you can't handle without me?" Ratchet grumbled.

"An accident happened–"

With a grunt, Ratchet stood up from his table and finally followed First Aid outside, "If it's those two–"

"Wheeljack."

Ratchet slapped his forehead, "What did he blow up this time?"

"Himself... among other things."

"That mech will be the end of the Kimia..."

First Aid chuckled a little as they hurried down to the emergency room, "Dean Perceptor is sure pissed. Wheeljack costs him more than his other scientists and projects together. Even the police went out, Commissioner Prowl is talking to him now, they're smoothing things. Guess they're used to it now. Ambulon has just arrived with Wheeljack–"

"And why would he need me? Ambulon is supposed to be Head of Emergency, I'm here in the Deltaran for diagnostics... or is it _that_ bad?"

"No... not at all. Mostly his face and hands. But they wanted you to deal with him since... you know how to do that best. Just to distract his attention so they could work on him."

Ratchet snorted as he entered the room where First Aid led him and was immediately met with the voices of the medics and one other, cheerful voice that was all too familiar, one that he could pick out even from a thousand; Wheeljack was laughing. Half of his face was burnt, his hands - what remained of them - were almost completely charred and his arms were shaking with the pain, but apart from a few, deeper scars on his chassis, those were his most serious injuries.

And he was laughing and bubbling about something Ratchet wasn't sure he wanted to know about. The medic put on a pair of gloves, not hurrying in the slightest, as he walked up to his patient. "The third time in four mega-cycles. I'm sure Percy is glitching from you now. I don't know why he's still putting up with you."

"Because I'm one of his best scientists." Wheeljack chuckled, but had to bite back a groan when Ratchet held up his left wrist to examine the joints, "I was almost finished now, Ratch. You know, that new cloaking device that can be attached to–"

"Okay, Wheeljack. I will have to replace your hands. And you should better keep unfinished projects to yourself." he lowered his voice, but cursed again when he saw the extent of damage on Wheeljack's frame, "And for frag's sake, 'Jack! You're head scientist of the Robotics section at the Kimia, you could really start acting responsible for such an enormous title."

Wheeljack snorted, "Titles, titles... Better mechs got punished for–"

"That was deca-cycles ago." Ratchet growled, interrupting the other mech. He knew perfectly who Wheeljack was referring to, but ever since the execution, Jhiaxus and his crime were taboo, and agreeing with him was dangerous and would always alert attention. After all, the Senate had mechs everywhere, "Be more careful. If I have to put you back together again before the start of the new stellar cycle, I'll wire your new hands to your aft."

He heard First Aid chuckle from beside him, and Wheeljack shrugged as much as he could, "I used a shield now."

"Yeah, I see how very effective it was. Maybe I shouldn't give you any more suppressants and do the surgery with you all awake, maybe that would teach you not to blow up half of the Facility again."

However, the smile still hadn't frozen from Wheeljack's lips. Ratchet threw various threats at him all the time, and even got around to bring a few to fruition, but he would never mistreat a patient. The medic had a spark of gold, even if he was good at hiding it. "Anyway," Wheeljack continued, taking a shaky vent as Ratchet and the rest of the medics worked on him, "you haven't come back to the apartment last night."

"I was working." came the curt answer, and now it was Wheeljack's turn to roll his optics.

"But this is the second night in a row, Ratch, how can you keep working like that? Or did you recharge in your office?"

"That's Perceptor's style. Ambulon, I believe my presence is not required here. And you shut up and let the medics work on you."

Not even waiting for an answer, Ratchet disposed of the tainted gloves and made his way back to his office in a hurry. He really did not want to talk to Wheeljack any more - the mech knew him too well. Once the door closed behind him, Ratchet slumped against it and buried his face in his palm. He couldn't do anything against it, he had too much to do, that is what kept him in even through the nights. Maybe working in two places at once was starting to wear out his strenght.

Luckily, he knew how to survive it. Ratchet went to his table and pulled out one of the drawers to pick up a cube. The energon in it was a sparkling purplish pink, not the finest of high-grades, but still did the job perfectly. Ratchet took a big gulp from it and sighed, letting his circuits fritz with the energy. He would be fine with it for one more night, and then he would go back home - just to prevent Wheeljack and the others from worrying about him.

* * *

On the other side of the globe, a crowd cheered on the two mechs walking into the open arena. The applause went mostly to the grey mech who walked with easy steps towards the center of the arena, and that was probably the first time Soundwave felt nervous. Last night, he analyzed all the data Laserbeak had gathered for him, the various matches and the moves the gladiators used and integrated them into his processor. He was confident in his abilities. Frenzy was also surprisingly well after his energon levels had been maintained, so Soundwave woke relatively calm in the morning. He could not quell his creations' worry for him, but that was natural. He would get injured for sure, but he would go back to them.

Glancing back towards where they stood at one of the entrances, Rumble's smile gave him most of his confidence back. He knew his cassette put up that smile only to reassure him of their faith in him, but it nevertheless felt good. He turned around to meet Megatron face to face at the center. There was curiosity in his thoughts, and Soundwave sighed as they resonated crystal clear in his own mind. As long as he had that, he couldn't surprise him.

Megatron sent him a small half a smile as he eyed up his new opponent, "Ready, Soundwave?"

Soundwave gave him a curt nod, snapping his facemask into place. Megatron had one as well, but he didn't like to use it and honestly, it was all the same for Soundwave. He raised up his axe, copying Megatron's movement, and both of them stood in position waiting for the sign to start their match.

More of feeling the sign rather than hearing it, the dual-spark lurched forward and blocked the axe Megatron had struck down on him. He grunted at the force of it and panic rose in him for a moment as he felt his arm shake with the effort of holding the gladiator away. The crowd cheered again, but he didn't hear it. He thought he was stronger than this... he had fought with mechs much more robust and forceful before, but Megatron was more powerful than all of them...

_Creator?_

His creations' fright snapped him back to reality and he pushed the grey mech away. He told himself to focus on Megatron's thoughts alone, to see his next move just as it entered his mind. He was good at that, and that was the only way he could survive this match.

If he defeated Megatron... that would give him respect in the gladiators' hierarchy and credits from the audience.

He saw Megatron's approving smile and the next thing he knew, he was struck with the axe again, only at the side this time. He raised up his shield to block the move and braced himself to dive at his opponent, using the momentary distraction he still had. He almost reached Megatron's arm, but the other mech was fast, too. Energies flew from their weapons every time they struck each other, each time earning another round of applause from the crowds.

Soundwave lost himself in the flow of it. Newfound excitement surged up in his circuits that had a trace of fear in them, too, and this combination drove him on. At the street fights before, all he felt was annoyance, something he wanted to finish quickly. This was different. Every sensation just fueled the rage that was building within him, and he felt like he could go against the whole world, gave him the strenght he was so afraid of losing at the beginning.

There were moments, however, when Megatron proved to be faster even than his telepathy and some of his moves he simply didn't have time to predict - and his axe flew away from his hand, landing too far for him to reach. Megatron wanted to strike at his arm seeing that, and, relishing in the fact he managed to gain this advantage back, Soundwave lashed out with his shield and struck Megatron in the face instead.

He could feel the gladiator's shock as he touched his bleeding lips, still for a long moment. The audience went silent as well as Megatron finally looked up at him, the surprise replaced with a quiet chuckle, "Not bad."

It was that moment that Soundwave decided to make a run for his axe, and just us he turned he felt Megatron's next thought immediately; he ducked low as the other's axe was thrown at him, though it still managed to scrape his back. Soundwave grunted as he pushed himself up, but he could never get to his feet. A massive frame held him down and turned him around, his optics met the gladiator's ferociously burning ones. His hand shot out to grab Megatron's neck cables, but the grey mech proved to be faster again - he grabbed Soundwave's hand and yanked at it.

It was the crack that he heard first and scrunching noise the cables and energon lines made as his arm was torn out of its socket. The agony crashed into him next like a fiery blade from the pit. The pain was undescribable. Soundwave had never screamed so loud in his entire life as he writhed, energon burst from his wound and painted the ground in purple beside him. He couldn't see for a moment from all the coolant that gathered in his optics and rolled down his face, and his spark swirled hot in his chest.

"You knew it would be like this." he finally managed to make out Megatron's voice from the background noise of the crowd and looked up at him from where he lay curled up on the ground, "I really don't want to kill you, Soundwave. You have more potential than you realize. So... are you going to give up?"

No... it couldn't end like this... His creations' emotions were going crazy through their bond, but he just couldn't...

_Frenzy..._

"No!"

When he later thought back to it, even Soundwave himself wouldn't have expected to find strenght in himself to jump up with that cry and dive into Megatron's chassis with his bare hand. He found that the movement dulled the pain somewhat and the anger cleared his processor enough to focus on the other's thoughts again. They wrestled with Megatron, the both of them had lost their weapons and shields now; it was a display of pure strenght that Soundwave wasn't aware he possessed until then. He was gaining the upper hand, it was like the pain was giving him more power in some magical, unnatural way, anger blossomed in his mind and drove him forward to punch, to kick, to _hurt_ that other mech. It felt...

It felt _good_.

And finally, after dodging Megatron's blow, with a well-aimed move he managed get behind the gladiator and grab his neck cables in a deadly hug. The crowd was silent again as he forced Megatron onto his knees. It almost seemed impossible, yet he was there, it was him. The monster in him, however, was starting to fade to exhaustion, and Soundwave knew he couldn't keep it up much longer. He was about to finish this match with the champion of the arena, and he was just one klick away from his victory...

He felt Megatron think about kicking his legs off the ground, and Soundwave braced them, but the blow never came; large hands grabbed his shoulders and threw him to the ground. The dual-spark landed flat on his back and was held down again. His frame shook with pain and growing weakness, and Megatron's vents were overworking as well. Both of them were covered in dents and scraped, tainted with energon, and Soundwave was starting to feel dizzy from the energon loss.

"Well done." he heard Megatron whisper as he leant down to him, "You are the first mech who had ever come this close to defeat me." a smirk appeared on his cracked lips, "But I think I know your secret."

So that was it. He had fooled him. One last blow of Megatron's fist to his face cracked his mask and his jaw as well, and Megatron pulled him to his feet. His legs shook, but Soundwave manage to stay upright - however, he could feel he had no more strenght to fight. It was over with that, and he closed his optics, waiting for a final strike from Megatron to finish him off.

"Welcome to the arena."

With that, Megatron turned around and limped away from him. The crowd burst out in cheers around him as Soundwave swayed on his pedes, and he finally opened his bond to receive his creations' fear as darkness fell over him and he collapsed in the middle of the stadium.

Among all the robots shouting and jumping up at the end of the match, a red mech and his partner remained seated in their places. The mech's hands tensed on his knees and his optics followed the medics who took the new gladiator named Soundwave away a few klicks after he went into stasis. He recognized the fighter's frame type and saw some patterns in his movements that felt familiar, it was enough for his interest to be perked. The newbie survived, that was for sure, and the mech found himself wanting to know more about him, especially when he saw the two mini-mechs, a feline mechanoid and a small flyer at the entrance waiting for him.

What could have been his reason to risk all that...?

"Reflector," he turned to his partner, "do you have the whole match?"

"Of course, Blaster." the purple mech replied, "Recorded the whole thing."

"Good. Just 'cause I want to know what could have driven a dual-spark to risk so much in a place like this..."

* * *

**Note: Ratchet wearing gloves - I know robots don't have to fear infections like we do, but I still think they would wear something to protect themselves from the patients' energon and other fluids and all those nasty things. I mean, if I were a medic, I wouldn't want to wash down all the way after every little procedure I had to perform. **

**Note 2: You may have noticed that I use the word "dean" to refer to a director, Perceptor this time. Dean of Science is the head of a scientific institute in my fic, Perceptor for the Kimia Facility here. Remember that it's still before the war, so the Kimia Facility is still a research center, not a weapon. **

**And why was Blaster in such a place at all...? I mean, it's really not his kind of thing... ;)**

**A review would be lovely. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**The wait was... very long. I am very sorry. :( Study is taking away most of my strenght and time from writing. I know, always the same excuse... but this is the truth. I don't think I'll be able to update anything soon, but I want to thank everybody for the reviews/favs/follows, and a HUGE thanks to You, DarkSplinter! You gave me confidence and inspiration, for which I am endlessly grateful! You helped me a lot! Thank you! :)**

**Eeer... I can't think about any warnings here. Maybe by the end of the chapter...? :D Enjoy! :)**

* * *

III.

Perceptor sighed in frustration for the umpteenth time that cycle. All this paperwork was grating on his nerves; even though he was used to staying long in his office, sometimes even forgetting to recharge, that time was usually used for research. This lack of stimuli made his attention wander, back to his projects, and in turn it increased his frustration further. Commissioner Prowl insisted on having all the official documents filled, and Perceptor wanted to finish everything as soon as possible - but of course, in the middle of arranging the clearing and re-construction of Wheeljack's laboratory and the head roboticist's medical treatment, it took longer than he expected.

Prowl and his team knew them from Iacon for some time, Colonel Ironhide especially took a big role in smoothing out these incidents, but now the Head of Police warned them the next time something similar happened he would have to make a thorough investigation. Something the Facility didn't need, even though Perceptor was sure they had nothing to hide - it was stressful for everyone and would show the Kimia in bad light.

Wheeljack and his brilliant ideas, Perceptor grunted impatiently, the datapad almost trembled in his hands. He and Wheeljack were roughly the same age, both were educated at high-ranking universities and gained renown in the scientific world at a young age. Thus, Perceptor respected Wheeljack for his expertise and enthusiasm, and this brought understanding between them that Perceptor even dared call friendship. However, their personalities couldn't have differed more; where Wheeljack was open and sharing, Perceptor closed himself and refused to let anyone in to get to know better. Where Wheeljack was rash and willing to jump into the craziest of ideas, Perceptor was quiet and strict, careful to the point of fear when it came to things not deemed safe enough.

And that was the reason the young dean could get so angry with him at times like this, even though he knew exactly he was working on an official project, towards a good purpose. But rules were always secondary to the engineer, especially when he grew excited over something. And he had to pay for it.

What was it this time? Oh, yes, that cloaking device - an assignment from the Senate itself, for their enforcers so they could infiltrate and expose illegal organizations and such more efficiently. That angered Perceptor as well; he hated it when outer forces wanted to interfere with the Kimia's business. They were a _research_ facility, not some parcel service, yet he couldn't stop the Senate from creeping into their lives and demand projects from them and time that could have been spent on other matters, some quite urgent. For example, Perceptor have thought of starting a project to find ways to re-electrify waste and exhaust energon from ground and space bridges to recycle and save more to those who couldn't afford enough for their families. Or ways to build the bridges' warping technology into space ships, in case the space bridge network malfunctioned - those who lived on the colonies would be stuck there for stellar cycles, after all, even the fastest of ships could only travel at the speed of light.

And when it came to space travel, light speed wasn't _that_ fast.

Or, maybe, methods to stop further corruption to the planet's weather; acid rains were more and more frequent, mainly on the equatorial regions, and there was no natural explanation to it - only artifical toxins, fumes of spent energon and other chemicals improperly stored, and their concentration in the atmosphere grew every stellar cycle...

Perceptor's digits tightened around the datapad and he realized he had been starring at it without seeing anything for a while by then. Again he let his thoughts wander and he wasn't finishing his work!

Curse Wheeljack...

Curse politics...

Another distressed sigh broke from Perceptor's lips when the door of his office whooshed open. Very few - only two - 'bots knew the code of his office and even they knew the physicist hated it if someone entered uninvited. However, looking up from his datapad, the anger and exhaustion evaporated to be replaced by shock at the white, streamlined mech who stepped, smiling, into the office.

"D-Drift?" Perceptor's usually light and sophisticated voice stuttered, "Why... How did you know my code?"

"From Brainstorm." the Elite Guard instructor replied, the smile never left his lips as he walked casually up to the table where Perceptor sat, "I was allowed out and I knew you'd still be working. I decided not to let you fall into recharge on your datapads _again_."

Perceptor was silent, he looked down at the datapad he still held unconsciously in his hands, "I need to finish these, Drift."

"As I heard, Prowl has given you three solar cycles to finish all the reports." at the dean's look, Drift raised up his hands in defense, "Brainstorm."

The Head of Physics buried his forehead in his palm, finally letting his frame slump, knowing full well that he didn't have to pretend for Drift, "You're not with the police now, so it's not your concern."

"No, _you_ are my concern." Drift rounded the table and crouched down in front of Perceptor's sitting form, "Working yourself to deactivation will not further the Facility's goals. They need you fully functional - you're a scientist, you know it much better than me. So... you're going home now?"

Perceptor averted his optics and suddenly looked shy under the other mech's gaze. He did not turn fully to Drift and his hands tightened on the datapad once again, but this time in another type of nervousness.

"So, you came to... take me home?" he asked quietly, causing the drill sergeant to chuckle.

"What else would I have come for?" he asked back and rose to gently pry Perceptor's digits off the datapad. He extended a hand towards the young physicist, which Perceptor accepted after a slight hesitation and let himself be pulled to his pedes, "It's okay. I'm not taking you to _my_ place... I know you're not ready for that. I just thought we could walk together... We can't meet and talk often, and you could use some fresh air."

"Yes, maybe that's right." Perceptor let out a shaky vent, "I'm tired, Drift."

"I know you are. May I?"

At the gentle question, Perceptor took a step forward into the waiting arms of the other mech. He smiled a little when he didn't tense as Drift closed him in an embrace, a loose one, to give him the chance to back off if he wished so. It was all done for him, he told himself. To help him.

"How does this feel?" he heard Drift ask, his voice close to his audios.

"Fine." was all Perceptor could answer. He had never been good at social interactions, the only time he could have longer conversations with someone or even give smaller speeches was over a scientific topic that he was interested in. It had been better since he met Drift; he couldn't explain what had drawn him to the former officer, or what Drift saw in him, but he felt more and more comfortable with him, even to the point of opening up to him about himself and his life.

Ever since then, Drift had been by his side, swearing that he would help him get over his fears and limitations in dealing with other bots on a social level - and he had many limitations. Perceptor didn't know how, but Drift was slowly but surely leading him back to that he lost, and taught him to value his colleagues more than their degree in scientific fields.

After a while, the instructor broke the embrace and looked at Perceptor deep in the optics, locking them to his. Perceptor knew what would come next, and he tried to fight the urge to tense up as the white metallic lips brushed against his. He told himself it should feel good; that if he relaxed, he could enjoy the contact the way it was meant to. Perceptor offlined his optics and let his rigid posture limp, tried to push his worries to the back of his mind and lose himself into the feeling.

There was nothing wrong about it after all. It was just Drift.

"And this?" he asked, Drift's tone was still gentle, but serious, "Be sincere, Perce."

"It felt... right." yes, that was the word that came first to his glossa to describe what he felt. Drift always told him to tell him everything he was feeling, be it good or bad - but now he became relaxed enough to say that the mech's closeness felt good.

At that reply, a broad smile spread out on Drift's lipplates, "See? You're getting stronger every cycle. Maybe you should start believing me."

Perceptor rolled his optics, a habit he picked up from Colonel Ironhide, and this earned him a chuckle from the drill sergeant. "Come on, let's go home."

The young dean was hardly aware of a light smile unconsciously forming on his lips as he finally deactivated the datapad and followed Drift out of his office to close down for the night. For that moment, he could forget about the paperwork, Wheeljack and the projects demanded by the Cybertronian Senate and just went where the flow pushed him. It was easier than he thought.

Drift was probably right... he was getting better.

* * *

"Greetings, Your Excellency. May I sit here?"

Starscream looked up at the familiar voice calling to him and gave a nod, "Advisor Contrail. Please, take a seat."

The other Seeker sat down opposite the younger flyer. Starscream took a sip from his refined energon and willed his other hand to stay unmoving on the table. They finally had a break between the sessions and he was still just starting to calm down - he wanted to be alone a little, at least finish a cube before they all had to gather back at the chamber. Starscream looked around the robots gathered at the small area, noticing them for the first time. Crystal City's young senator, Greenlight was conversing with Ultra Magnus of Iacon and his junior advisor Arcee, while senator Mirage shared a cube with Velocitron's ambassador and the Tesarian senator, Sixshot. Sentinel Prime himself soon joined them and Starscream tried to repress a snort at the mech's sight; he instead turned back quickly to his fellow Seeker.

"Why aren't you with your senator?" he asked somewhat impatiently, "Do you want to talk about something?"

Contrail glanced towards the first trio with a small smile, "My lady can do without me. And I wanted to congratulate you on the latest developement. It is great to hear our dear Vos finally has its own space bridge fully functional."

Starscream now couldn't hold back a huff, "Yes, until our dear Prime decided to get hold of it." he murmured, "And of course, almost the whole Senate agreed to nationalize it, just like the other space bridges."

"You know it is just to keep track on the traffic."

"The traffic, alright." Starscream replied sarcastically and put down his cube. Just speaking of the recent subject of the first session took his appetite away.

"But you managed to keep them from proposing a voting, and thus Vos can keep its independency. At least regarding the space bridge."

Yes, Starscream thought, that much was true. During the session, his speech almost turned into shrieks in his vehement objection against the nationalization of their space bridge. It had been one of the biggest achivements of their Astronomical Division, built entirely on their own by the greatest of scientists of the Division and many skilled mechanics - it was _theirs_, and Starscream wasn't about to give it all to the Senate. It was the property of the Vosian people, and that was it.

Starscream sat straighter in his chair, feeling a little proud despite his frustration with the whole situation and the cool energon was starting to soothe his nerves. "I just hope I can keep it that way." he said quietly and attempted to finish his cube.

"I'm sure you will." Contrail reached into his subspace and pulled out a small, black object that he held out to the other Seeker, "Anyway," he continued casually, "Senator Greenlight sends her greetings to Queen Nacelle, and please, give her my regards as well."

"Of course." Starscream took the datatrax and subspaced it. He knew perfectly well what it contained, though his fellow honourables no longer bothered to give these samizdats a second thought - and their personal possession was forbidden. Starscream would need to download the contents of the trax directly to his central processor and store it in his memory banks before he left the Grand Imperium to avoid suspicion, "Thank you, Advisor Contrail. I believe we should return to the chamber."

Thundercracker and Skywarp were waiting for him at the entrance of the rotunda. His blue trine mate was holding numerous datapads, but Starscream couldn't will himself to pay attention. It had been some time since he discovered Contrail kept datatraxes of the samizdats sent by the mysterious mech by the designation "D-16" and he promised him to keep his secret on one condition - if he provided him with at least the copies of those writings.

Senator Starscream had always been sensitive regarding the lower castes, but his voice alone didn't mean much. The Senate of Cybertron, the robots who were supposed to represent all their people and act in favour of their needs were becoming corrupted and their worlds limited to their own interests. Those who remained open towards others and actually wanted to give them all the freedom they needed were few and weak against the majority that rejected change - and reality.

That was why Starscream found the writings exceptionally intriguing - the 'bot who wrote them was clearly from a low class, just by the clarity and details of the things he wrote down, and the force of his words almost hurt. They were crude in their sincerity, yet the style told about some education. All those written speeches were so inspirational that Starscream couldn't just toss them away. The more he read, the more curious and interested he became about this mech.

The young representative of Vos let his mind wander even as the next session started. He would find out who this mech was. He needed to see who found himself strong enough to make a change and conquer their world for the better.

* * *

Soundwave lifted and rolled his hand as was instructed by Flatline. The appendage worked just fine.

The chief physician oversaw his treatment and reconstruction and Soundwave noticed a slight change in his demeanor. The mech hadn't been disrespectful before, but since their match with Megatron he - and all the others for that matter - treated him and spoke to him with newfound respect and even an air of admiration. It had taken a few solar cycles before he could get up from the ward's berth and his cassettes told him by now everyone in the arena knew who Soundwave was.

He had proven himself.

The medical staff did a good job on him, the telepath didn't even expect them to have such expertise; he figured only those medics came here who lost their jobs somehow or weren't good enough for common hospitals. Mainly Flatline and another medic, Stormbringer treated him - he turned out to be a surgeon with double specialty in the ventilation-cooling and waste secretion systems, he was the one who mended Soundwave's broken filters -, but his arm was replaced by two of the construction mechs by the designations Hook and Scrapper. By the end of his stay at the medical ward, Soundwave felt as good as new, much better than he felt in mega-cycles.

And now he was ready to leave the ward to go back to his creations.

"Good." Flatline gave him a small smile and grabbed Soundwave's new hand, gently rolling it again, "The wrist joint looks good, the cables are strong. It's painless, alright? Good. I'll finish my report to Master Onslaught and you can leave."

Soundwave gave a curt nod and saw his twins grin up at him. He knew Ravage stayed in their room and Laserbeak went out scouting in Kaon again. All his creations visited him every solar cycle and it seemed Frenzy was well enough for now - the smaller attacks Rumble could handle alone, and if something serious happened to Frenzy, they would have brought him to the ward. Now the mini-mechs were both eager to escort him back to their quarters.

"C'mon, creator, let's get out of here." Frenzy said cheerfully, however, before Soundwave could have got up from the berth, a familiar grey mech strode towards them.

"Before that, may I have a word with Soundwave?" Megatron asked, his tone polite towards the two mini-cons. Soundwave guessed it shouldn't have surprised him, after all, the gladiator had acted extraordinarily understanding since they met.

Megatron was allowed to leave the ward earlier, but they talked little during the time they had been treated together. Despite that, the mech turned out to be rather intelligent and had an exceptionally strong spirit, his mental strenght admirable. He had a commanding presence and many - almost all - mechs and femmes in the arena respected and even feared him. Soundwave had to admit he enjoyed his company and looked forward to talking to him. However, he now put a hand on Rumble's shoulder to keep his sons from going away.

"You can speak in front of them. I don't keep secrets from my creations." came Soundwave's calm reply and Megatron gave a nod after a slight hesitation.

"Very well. I am sure you already know what I want to talk about anyway."

Soundwave frowned slightly. He had noticed earlier that the gladiator must have suspected something, but he didn't mention it nor gave any indication that he fully knew his secret. Seeing that Soundwave wasn't about to answer, Megatron continued,

"You managed to trick me during the match." he said calmly and lowered his voice, leaning closer to the other mech, "You could predict my moves - the only exception was when you were too tired to act quickly. You know, I have met a few dual-spark 'bots before, one of them was a telepath. He said it could occur in dual-sparks, so my suspicion is... you are one as well."

Soundwave's features straightened. He didn't see his twins look up at him with surprised and frightened optics - after all, he had been quite good at hiding his ability, but he saw no reason in denying the obvious. After all, he now wouldn't be able to convince the grey mech otherwise.

"I am." he replied in an equally quiet tone, "Does it mean I cannot continue on as a gladiator here?"

Megatron shook his head lightly, "If the others get a hold of this bit of information, they will refuse to fight you. I will keep your secret, and if you are more careful, you will be safe. How to deal with envy, I cannot give you an advise on that." he let out a faint chuckle, "You became quite famous. Mechs will want to challenge you. Your next match - if you want to stay - is already set and quite a few credits had been put on you, so Master Onslaught told me. Of course, you won't see much from it at first, but if you keep up this pace, things will get better for you all."

Soundwave nodded slowly, keeping his amber optics on the mech before him, "But this is not what you wanted to talk about."

Megatron raised an optical ridge in slight surprise, "That's right. I thought you could see my true intentions as well."

"Your mind becomes strangely shielded when you are secretive. You hide your thoughts well. During the fight, you were driven by your emotions, therefore it was easy to read you - now it's not that easy. So, may I ask what you want to talk about with me?"

"Hmm. Alright," Megatron straightened up, "at this time, I am recruiting mechs and femmes who had been abused, discarded and wiped away by our _dear_ government. Those who have suffered from the corruption of the high classes. We already have resources, weapons and quite a few combat capable robots - our numbers are growing. We are all willing to fight for our freedom and make a change, as the Cybertronian race had become stagnant and is spiralling down; the ultimate result would be rebellion."

Soundwave's optics widened a little at the recognition of the last line. Of course, he had read Jhiaxus' last publication before it was censored and eventually prohibited altogether, he had considered the old scientist's words and came to agree with most of it. In the InfoCore, he had access to the whole DataNet, even to encrypted files from the police or the Senate itself. He knew about uprisings, mostly from the low castes that had been quelled by the enforcers even before they could have started.

About this... he knew nothing.

"You want me... to join you?" Soundwave asked uncertainly. It wasn't easy to make him feel that way, but he also felt that the mech was telling the truth. The memory of the thought in Cliffjumper's mind about the guns surfaced in his processor - those must have been the weapons Megatron was talking about, that Cliffjumper refused to show him along with the usual ones used by the combatants.

"This arena is the gathering place of the homeless, the hopeless, the forgotten... yet, even here, they cannot gain all the freedom they need. We have to fight for the little credits we earn - and for our lives. No one really cares about us here. Only we can understand what it is like to be oppressed, and you had the misfortune to experience it as well. Though, maybe it is fortunate that you got here, into our circles... we need mechs like you. Only those with the same experience can feel the depth of just how _wrong_ our world has turned. And only _we_ can have the spirit to even fight to turn it back. Back to when all were one... to a _real_ Golden Age. I'm not asking you to change your morals all of a sudden - you can say no if you want to. But rebellion is inevitable; if we don't make it, someone else will. I am sure you do realize the circumstances cannot remain as they are."

Soundwave sighed deeply, "Believe me, I have seen many things through the InfoCore. I know that some change... must be made. But I already told you, Megatron... the reason I came here and agreed to fight was to get credits for Frenzy." he put an arm around the black mini-mech's shoulders, "My creations are the most important to me. I'm willing to fight for _them_, but as of now... that is all that drives me."

"Creator..." Rumble whispered, but did not say any more.

"You can back off, as I said." Megatron nodded, "I'm not forcing you into anything. All I ask of you is to think about it. I hope to talk to you again before your next match."

Soundwave nodded and finally got up from the berth when Megatron started walking away. However, before they exited the ward, Megatron turned back to him once more, "Oh, and before I forget; there is a mech waiting for you outside the arena. You have permission to go out and meet him."

Soundwave frowned, "Who is it?"

"He said he was an aquaintance of yours. A dual-spark like you."

Soundwave was now even more confused. He did not know any other dual-spark personally - who could this mech be? He couldn't dwell into his thoughts, though, for as soon as they left the ward and made their way towards their quarters, Rumble and Frenzy bombarded him with their worried questions.

"Creator, you can't go!"

"You don't have to fight more!"

"You don't wanna leave us, right?"

"Boys, boys..." Soundwave sighed, "I haven't even considered the idea yet. And I will never leave you. I... do find that Megatron was right and true about his statements, but I'm not going anywhere and I won't make decisions without you."

"But you..." Frenzy began with a frown, "you will consider him?"

The dual-spark waited a moment before he answered, "As I said, he was sincere in what he told me. I could feel that. And it is also true that... the people will eventually rebel. I had also read Jhiaxus' publication and works of social psychology in this matter, as had you when you were curious... or bored enough. The government cannot continue on like this with its current ways... something will happen."

"Okay, so you _are_ considering it." Rumble murmured.

"I just said Megatron was right." Soundwave replied as calmly as he could, "And right now, I'm focusing on you. You are my top priority."

"Right, just don't set up your mind without telling us, okay?"

Soundwave let out another sigh, "Please, Rumble, don't be so difficult."

"Just askin'."

Frenzy chuckled lightly at the way Soundwave shook his head - there was always a tiny smile on his face that he tried to hide, but they saw it. Their creator could never be really angry at them, even if they would have deserved it, but Frenzy was sure they had been especially well-behaved recently, and he hadn't had any attacks in the past two deca-cycles apart from bounds of fatigue. Soundwave couldn't complain.

"Anyway," he black twin began, "who can this other dual-spark be? I thought you didn't know any other."

"I don't." Soundwave answered.

"Maybe you caught his optics during your match." Rumble grinned up at him and fought the urge to wink when he saw Soundwave's expression.

"We don't know his intentions." his creator replied, the frown returning to his face.

"Yeah, whatever. Will you meet him?"

"I shall. I am curious what this robot's purpose was in requesting a meeting with me. I didn't even know gladiators were allowed to do that."

"Okay, go then. We'll be back in our quarters."

"See ya, Soundwave!" Frenzy waved to him and turned in the corridor leading to their room, and he did _not_ hold back the wink. Soundwave could hear the twins giggling on their way and shook his head again. He certainly did not think it was that much fun. In fact, it left him quite nervous. A feeling he wasn't used to...

"Hey! You came!"

Even though the exclamation wasn't harsh, and the mech wore a moderate smile on his face, Soundwave couldn't help frown again. He managed to recognize the accent as Iaconian, but the mech couldn't have been a native speaker. He was the same height as him, his plating was ruled by the colour red and the speakers on his lower legs and shoulders indicated he either worked in communications or musical entertainment - as did the cheerful expression on his face. His voice also had a slight electrical echo, but Soundwave found it pleasent. The mech was radiating joy, like an island of light in the night, yet Soundwave couldn't help fidget a little before he could control it.

"I have been asking about you for solar cycles." the stranger continued, "I thought they won't let you out."

Neither took a step forward to shorten the distance and it was, for now, good enough for Soundwave.

"I am here now." he said calmly, "Why have you called me?"

"Hmm. Straightforward." the other dual-spark grinned, "To tell you the truth, you got me curious there. I watched your match with the champion Megatron and it was... quite hard. My designation is Blaster."

"Is that why you wanted to meet me? To tell me this?"

Blaster seemed to search his face, and Soundwave decided to use his momentary hesitation to sneak into his mind. However, at that precise klick, the mech, Blaster chuckled lightly.

"Like what you see in there?"

Soundwave optics widened at that; now he was truly shocked. No one had ever been able to feel it when he read their minds - it couldn't _be_ felt! "How can you tell...? You are not a telepath."

"Yeah, I'm not one myself, but my sister is. She was always in our heads, I learnt to distinguish it when she decided to poke into our minds."

"I... didn't think it could be identified..." Soundwave said quietly with a newfound interest in the mech, "Your sister is a dual-spark, too?"

"Yes." Blaster nodded, "Me and sis are dual-sparks. Brother wasn't so lucky. So? Did you see the answer to your question?"

Soundwave shook his head slowly, still too much in a surprise to try again to read the other's mind. At this, Blaster continued, optical ridges raised, "Really? Strange... it's been all over my mind lately. Since I saw you fight, to tell the truth."

"And that is...?"

"That is, _why_ do you fight at all? I saw your creations at the end of the match - at least, I had a wild guess they are yours seeing how they fussed around you when the medics took you away. I have seen... fights, but I've never even heard about a dual-spark entering the combats before. Exactly because... they have so much to lose. Our creations are dependent on us, even when they're adults. And I just couldn't figure out... what could have driven a mech like you to risk your life in a place like this?" Blaster spread his arms in a questioning way.

The mech's face was so expressive, Soundwave could have read him only by watching his expressions. What a contrast it was to him when he tried to hide his emotions to the best of his abilities from his face - he didn't like to reveal too much about himself at a time, only if he made sure it was safe enough. Soundwave found himself slightly mesmerized by such colourful display of emotions on a mech's face, but concentrated on the question that had been asked of him.

"Maybe I came here... because of my creations." he answered slowly, "Why is it so important to you? I don't know you."

"Now you know me." Blaster grinned, "But I see you don't open up easily. That's alright. I'm glad you at least came out to talk to me. Will you stay here? Have matches in the future?"

"Yes. I am staying and I will continue fighting... as long as necessary."

"When is your next match?"

"In two deca-cycles."

"Okay." Blaster's grin faded into a softer smile, and now he shifted on his pedes, "So, um... how many creations have you got?"

Soundwave watched his face, feeling a slight spike of uncertainity in him. "Four."

"Wow, that's cool! I have five... my treasure boxes, all of them." Blaster smiled again, and Soundwave detected a familiar fondness in his mind that was the same he felt towards his creations. This mech was... alike him, yet different. And his curiosity wasn't sated, even though he refrained himself from asking any more personal questions. Soundwave just watched him, watched the changes on the silver faceplates, trying to identify the emotions just by watching. He found that he could have just stood there and listen to the mech until he saw every little twitch of his features.

"Okay, I... guess that is all for now." Blaster finally said and raised his optics to Soundwave's with a shine of hopefulness, "Will I meet you again?"

Soundwave stood motionlessly, yet found himself nodding absently. It was clear the mech was still interested, and he couldn't deny that he had gained curiosity towards him as well.

"My designation is Soundwave."

And maybe it wouldn't be so bad to give in to his curiosity just this once.

* * *

**Okay... that's it. Hope you liked it. :) Good night!**


	4. Chapter 4

**The longest chapter so far. :):) Thanks for the reviews/favs/follows for the previous chapter! :) I have no warnings for this one... be ready for everything. ;)**

* * *

IV.

_"Are you sure this is the right magnitude?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Really?"_

_"Yes! We've done it before, I know how high it should be."_

_A young mech's laughter rang to their audios, "A CNA extraction is too boring for Shockers there, Dean Jhiaxus." Wheeljack grinned at them and turned back to his calibrations. Jhiaxus chuckled. Of course he knew that his students were both above such simple tasks and he could tell by Shockwave's expression that he considered it a waste of time._

_"I know you know all this." the older Cybertronian said, "But I want you to be one hundred percent sure in the routine. Wheeljack, are you sure you don't want to join us?"_

_"Nah, thank you, sir. Engineering is good for me."_

_"Alright."_

_With that, Jhiaxus and Shockwave turned back to the computer. The stabilizers had been ready and the computers only required the setting of the final calculations. The young Shockwave tried to make his expression as neutral as possible as his digits hit the numbers on the screen and tried to accept that his professor only wanted him to be sure of himself before he let him take the next step. After all, it had been just the start of their doctorate cycles, but still... Shockwave wanted to do something _more_._

_It was a task a first-cycle intern could do without problem. It is the start of every analytical procedure; you have to be at home with the basics to be able to improve your world, his teacher would always say. Shockwave was just starting to feel that wasn't enough for him anymore. He wanted to improve already..._

_"What will be our specimen today, sir?" he tried to hide the boredom from his voice, but even he felt that he failed, "An energon tank? A processor?"_

_"A spark."_

_Shockwave stopped when he heard the answer. He turned to look at his master with raised optical ridges, "A spark? A direct extraction from a spark?"_

_"Exactly."_

_"B-but... we have to get special permissions for that... and it's only done for specific reasons, not for a simple school task!" Shockwave exclaimed, failing to notice that Jhiaxus' features did not move in the slightest, "And where is the robot, anyway?"_

_"There is no need for that." Jhiaxus replied calmly and he pointed at the device's cabin, "The spark had already been separated."_

_Now Shockwave's optics widened. He looked at Wheeljack, but his partner didn't even turn to them. "No. Why would you..." he stuttered, "Ignicular CNA can only be extracted from a living robot, only if the body is in deep stasis and... They don't just give sparks to student labs!"_

_"That is right." Jhiaxus was still calm, too calm for the situation, Shockwave thought. However, he wasn't ready for what the older geneticist was about to say, "But you need not worry about anything. We aren't harming anyone."_

_"The spark is mine."_

_For a moment, Shockwave thought he had to reset his audios, but there was no mistaking his teacher's words. He had heard it right. The young robot took a step back with a deep frown on his face, his optics were turning frightened, "What did you say?"_

_Jhiaxus turned to him fully and took a step forward. Shockwave looked to Wheeljack for help, but the other mech wasn't there. He had just vanished, as if he had never even been there. Before he could have wondered where he had gone, Shockwave found himself face-to-face with the dean and he almost jumped when he heard and saw Jhiaxus' chest plates split and open. Shockwave's optics widened at the thought that his master was about to bare his spark to him, but then he remembered what he had said..._

_...and froze to his core._

_There was no spark. Jhiaxus' spark chamber was empty._

_Shockwave found himself shaking his head, his whole body trembled like a fragile lilleth in the sunlight. It was impossible. It defied logic... science itself. A Cybertronian could not exist, could not be conscious and walking without his or her spark! H-how? Just how..._

_"How...?" Shockwave whispered. No, he wasn't seeing this. It couldn't be real._

_"All of us have to pray the price, Shockwave." Jhiaxus said, taking another step towards him, chest plates still wide open. Shockwave couldn't move away from him anymore, "It is done for the ultimate purpose. One mech doesn't matter. Sacrifices must be made for the good of our race... In the name of Cybertron's glory... with science's lead..._

_Logic dictates us to improve. To evolve. If we do not evolve... we'll be defeated. We will grow weak. Degrade. We will cease to exist..._

_We all have to pay the price." Jhiaxus stopped, his hands moving upwards to grab his student's shoulders, "They don't understand it, Shockwave. Only you do. They are all ignorant..."_

_Shockwave did not hear anymore. His optics were glued to the empty space in Jhiaxus' spark chamber, and he didn't even notice that the hands grabbing him were becoming thinner, sharper, more edged. He gasped when he saw the plates turn a dull, dead grey and jumped when he heard cracks. Bits of the grey metal were falling down Jhiaxus' body, holes appeared on him and grew bigger, more and more overwhelming until there was nothing left of his plates. Shockwave stood shocked, unable to move an inch or tear his optics from his master's crumbling body, his mind just numbly registering that the mech was falling apart in front of him._

_The digits, those metallic, skeletal digits dug into his shoulder plates. The remains of the face, the naked cranium, the gaping black holes of the optics were growing too vast for him, almost enough to swallow him whole..._

_They did this to me, Shockwave..._

_Shockwave wanted to shake his head, wanted so desperately to get away from the corpse of his teacher, his old friend, but he was frozen. Frozen as the emptiness came closer, the soulless body, the sparkless chamber, the empty space that took up the whole world and devoured everything living like a dead end that left no more path to go on. The corpse was grasping his shoulders. Didn't let go._

_And Shockwave screamed_–

The young dean of the Tarnian Academy woke with a start. Intakes heaving and chassis shaking, Shockwave sat up in his berth. He pulled his legs up to his chest, folded his arms tightly around them and waited for the tremors to cease. It hadn't been the first night he had this flux, yet it was so distorted, so horrible that he needed time to calm down afterwards. He let his head fall to his knees to help relieve the dizziness. He ignored the warnings flashing before his optics about his increased spark-rate and overheating systems and activated his comm. link, calling the one mech he felt safe enough to talk about what happened.

It was an actual memory file. He and Wheeljack both obtained their doctorate under Jhiaxus, Shockwave of genetical robotics while Wheeljack did physical robotics, therefore it was Shockwave who had spent more time with their master. Jhiaxus was a great mentor to him and then a fair colleague when the young mech started working alongside him. By the end of his studies, Shockwave came to consider the older 'bot a friend, though even Shockwave didn't think at first the igniculicist would trust him so much as to give his experiment to him.

The experiment that led to his demise...

"Shockwave?" Wheeljack's voice, on the other side of the globe, sounded very much awake.

"'Jack... I'm sorry to bother you, just..." Shockwave took a shaky vent.

"What's wrong? Something happened? Are you unwell?"

"No, it was a... flux." Shockwave answered, "I can't tell Flamewar about this, she... still refuses to talk about Jhiaxus."

Wheeljack was silent for a moment, then Shockwave heard a whooshing sigh from his former partner, "What was it about?" his friend's tone was tired but soft, and Shockwave breathed a sigh of relief that at least Wheeljack was willing to listen to him.

"We were students... we were at the lab. Jhiaxus told me to make a CNA extraction from a spark and said that... the spark was his. He opened his chest plates and his chamber was empty. T-then... his body started to fall apart and he died before me, only the skeletal structure was left..." he had to stop for a klick and shake his head to get rid of the memories flashing before his optics, "He said we all have to pray the price. That sacrifices must be made for the common good of..."

He didn't finish. Anyone who vocally agreed with that of Jhiaxus' publications - even though, Shockwave knew, they were scientifically right and undeniable - was suspicious and Shockwave didn't need any more surprise investigations. Even there, in the safety of his own room, he bit his lips before the words could have slipped through them.

However, he wasn't expecting the answer he received from Wheeljack, "Shockers, you... maybe you shouldn't think about him so much. You are sounding like you're growing depressed. It's haunting you, and... you're dean now, you can't let it distract you. Look, if you're not ready to take on the Academy, take a break."

"I can't do that, Wheeljack. The Academy is my responsibility now."

"Okay, I know you take it seriously. But really, it's not normal that you have such fluxes... you know I mentioned that psychologist I know, maybe it would help a little to get over all that happened."

Shockwave frowned and anger welled up in him before he could have stopped it, "What are you implying?"

Wheeljack sighed again, "That you can't let go. You... changed, Shockwave. You hardly talk to us, and it always seems like you're not even in your body. It's growing over you. I know it's hard for you, it's hard for all of us, but we have to go on."

Shockwave sat up straight in his berth, "You mean we should forget it? Wheeljack, he was our m–... our _friend_!"

"I'm not saying we should forget him, on the contrary!" Wheeljack hushed his voice, "I'm saying this to help you. It's not weakness if you ask for help. You'll be just as good a dean as Jhiaxus was despite–"

"But I still can't live in his memory?! _You_ should know best that he was right!"

A sigh broke from Wheeljack's end of the line again, and his tone grew even quieter now, "In his theories, he was right, of course I know that. But Shockwave, let's admit those experiments that he made behind our backs were... you can't say he was right in that!"

Shockwave's digits curled into a fist before he knew it, "What was he supposed to do?! His publications had been prohibited, he wasn't allowed to speak, nobody listened to him when he only stated facts everyone else ignored or tried to hide, so he chose to act... he just wanted to help! Improve our race! Don't you think the least we can do is honor his memory and follow in his steps?"

Silence was the only answer he received from his former partner for a long moment, and even then, Wheeljack's voice was nothing more than a disbelieving whisper, "Shockwave, you... aren't going to continue, are you? Don't make the same mistake he did!"

"Mistake... No, I'm not making a mistake." Shockwave murmured and got up from his berth, his tone again quiet and flowing with inner hurt, "I thought you would understand, Wheeljack. I called you because I can't trust anybody else to help me relieve the pain somewhat... but I see you won't give it to me. I'm alone with this."

"Shockwave, wait! You're not alone, I only meant that it was wrong Jhiaxus started experimenting on those mechs and femmes. You mustn't do the same, okay? We can talk if–"

"No, you don't want to remember him." Shockwave walked up to the window of his room, "If that is your way of dealing with the grief, so be it. I apologize for bothering you."

"Shockwave–"

The young dean cut the link and opened the window. He took a deep vent from the cool night air, the smells of the city filled his olfactory sensors. Tarn at night was quite a sight to behold. The constant faint, light-blue glow of the ground bridge at the periphery of the city state added to the coldness, but the low buzz of nightly traffic and the city lights warmed it all up somewhat. Shockwave let his optics wander around the tall buildings, the figures moving between them that seemed miniature from that high up.

The ignorant lot entrusted their lives into the hands of those above them and in turn they imprisoned them with laws and rules under the false promise of safety. Shockwave shook his head slowly, feeling the charge dissipate from his circuits and he finally calmed down somewhat. He drowned away the new surge of anger that threatened to course through him once again at the thought and sight of the robots on the streets and he closed the window. These illogical outbursts of emotions just distracted his attention from the more important matters. Made him push away his best friend...

But even Wheeljack couldn't understand. Shockwave shook his head once more and made his way to his computer, cursing softly while he wiped away the tiny droplets of coolant from his optics. He cursed just how weak these conflicting emotions made him, but he quickly drew in another deep vent to chase these thoughts away. It was useless to think about it anymore - what was done couldn't be undone. Only if he concentrated.

The roboticist cast a fleeting glance at the datapad entitled "D-16" on his table and turned back to the computer, switching the machine on. He could not and didn't want to go back to recharge for a while after that flux, and he felt the turmoil of emotions still hadn't subsided as much as he wanted - Shockwave hoped a little work would help him focus and get his concentration back.

All the data scrolling down on the screen brought the tiniest of smiles to the young dean's face. After all the data he had recovered, gathered, added and analyzed, he had an almost complete outline of the planned project. A few more studies needed to be done for it to be ready and really be put into motion. The last step, Shockwave knew, would be the riskiest of all - the tests. But it needed to be done in order to discover and sort out all errors and bring the project to perfection. And if he had to do that alone, then so be it.

There will be no mistakes this time.

* * *

The Deltaran Medical Facility was a rich hospital. One of the most sought-out by the higher class and nobility of Rodion and even from Iacon and Kalis, therefore it was rare to see robots from low or even lower-middle castes entering. Those who could not pay the bills only received the poorer treatment of small infirmaries and often not even that was enough. One of the reasons Ratchet was grateful to have been offered such an important position - it allowed him, from time to time, to override such rules.

It really was a privilege he had been called to fill the place of the head of diagnostic medicine. From there, he had access to numerous files and reports from the various diagnostic machines and laboratories and could even decide who to admit in certain circumstances. Ratchet sometimes still cursed himself for accepting the position, despite already having a firm job in Iacon at the Central Infirmary, but there were things he wouldn't have taken back. The wider access he had to patients, the more of them he could treat - even those who otherwise wouldn't have been able to afford it.

And while the surgeon fully believed he was in control and would manage to balance it, just as he had been doing for stellar cycles, things were beginning to take their inevitable toll on him.

As he and First Aid walked down to the central terminal of the Facility close to the entrance, Ratchet spotted a mech standing outside the glass doors, holding a small sparkling to his chest. The mech was of short stature, his paint job unkept and he was turning his head in all directions, seemingly looking for help. All the while, he clutched the sparkling close to his chest, both hands spread over the little one's back as if the carrier wanted to shield his creation from something. Ratchet frowned, but noticed quickly his concentration slipped too far, just in time to readjust his sensors.

However, there was a moment hesitation, a tiny sway in his steps that Ratchet managed to correct in less than a klick, but it was still enough for First Aid's keen optics to catch on and reach out to his mentor. Ratchet ignored it and continued his way to the terminal at the same steady pace, casting one last glance at the mech with the sparkling.

He could not fool First Aid. Ratchet was sure that he noticed the signs, he saw his partner's careful glances towards him, but until then, the young diagnostician fellow knew better than to say anything. Did not mention it because First Aid trusted the older medic knew what he was doing and he would take care of himself because he was aware, painfully aware, what could be the outcome of this erratic lifestyle. Yet even his co-workers, even his friends couldn't tell - just First Aid.

And it seemed he had finally gathered his courage to open his mouth.

"Ratchet..."

"I know what you want to ask and yes, I am alright and I recharge enough."

"Yes, yes, of course." the younger medic shook his head and sighed, "You're denying even before I asked anything. You know what's sign that is."

"That the patient is an addict." Ratchet finally turned to him, his expression neutral, "You can say it, First Aid. I never berated you for saying your thoughts out loud."

"I only wanted to say that I hope you know where your limits are... and aren't doing anything careless." he added in a murmur, "There's a constant buzz in your EM field. Faint, but... it's there. I know you're drinking high-grade again, and–"

"Have you ever noticed my hands shaking?" Ratchet interrupted him with a question, this time he stopped altogether before the terminal and faced his young fellow.

First Aid stopped as well, his optics widening a little bit in surprise and he shook his head, "No."

"Have you ever noticed my optics flickering or my speech slurring?"

"No, but–"

"Has my behavior ever been improper or incorrect to indicate I have any kind of problems? Have I ever made the tiniest of mistakes in treating a patient?"

First Aid released a frustrated vent, "Ratchet, I'm not accusing you! But you can't say you're doing it right!"

"No, I'm not doing it right." Ratchet grumbled, his optics travelling outside again, "But I know when to ask for help and as you see, I am perfectly capable of performing my tasks. Do you have any more doubts?"

The younger medic frowned and lowered his head, "No."

"Aid... I appreciate that you are worried, but I'm a big mech, okay? There's no need..." Ratchet's tone turned a tad softer, but his expression soured into a frown again, and finally getting frustrated enough seeing that everyone was ignoring the mech with the sparkling, he turned around with a grumbled "continue later". First Aid looked after him, then, with shoulders slumping, he made his way to the terminal to fill in the latest reports.

"Excuse me... can I help you?"

The mech almost jumped when he heard Ratchet's question, the sparkling squirmed uncomfortably in his arms as he gripped him too hard in his surprise. Now from up close, Ratchet could see how degraded the mech's condition was, but he quickly focused on the sparkling instead. The protoform was a dull colour and the little mech was small, Ratchet couldn't immediately guess at first sight whether it was because he was so young or because of malnutrition. However, the first thing that took his attention were small dark spots on the sparkling's back visible only through the cracks between his creator's digits.

"I-I..." the mech stuttered, shifting on his pedes, and looked down at his sparkling, "My son, he... I don't know what is wrong with him."

"It's alright." Ratchet used his gentlest tone and reached out to the mech, "Let me see."

The mech hesitantly unwrapped his arms from around the sparkling and turned him around to face the medic. Ratchet noted the dark spots on his abdomen and upper limbs as well as the tired look on the small face, he activated his scanner. The sparkling's optics widened and he let out a frightened keen when the red light swept over him, but otherwise didn't move in his carrier's arm. Ratchet carefully hid the frown from his face upon meeting the mech's optics once again.

"Metal degradation." he announced quietly, "Most likely Corrodia Gravis. It is an early stage still, but we need to make some tests to be sure. It would be best to examine you as well–"

"No, I'm-I'm alright." the mech stammered and looked down at his sparkling again. He bit his lips and slowly, with trembling hands, he reached out his arms to give the small robot to the medic, "Take him, please. I cannot afford it."

Ratchet sighed, but didn't move to take over the sparkling from his creator, "I know, but you don't need to worry about the credits, the hospital will pay your bills. Come, the sooner we–"

"No, you don't understand." the mech interrupted him again, his tone and optics almost pleading to the older Cybertronian, "I can't afford _him_. As much as I want to... I cannot raise him. When I noticed he's ill, I knew it was over... I want you to take him in. I-It's still better than an... orphanage."

Ratchet watched the mech with a frown. He had seen this kind of desperation before, and while he could afford the medical bills, he wouldn't have been able to give continous support to every homeless robot who came under his care. Even after all this time, there was still a stinging feeling in his spark that, he knew, would never fade, no matter the profession and experience. He finally reached out and took the squirming sparkling in his arms with a great sigh before asking, "Has his sire agreed to this?"

The mech lowered his head, "My mate was deactivated a deca-cycle ago, just when I noticed the first spot on Wheelie."

"Sparkmate?"

"Endura." the mech replied quietly and watched with teary optics as his sparkling squirmed and whimpered in the strange mech's arms, away from the familiar pulsations of his carrier's spark, "I... will you find him a good family?"

Ratchet took a moment to answer, "If you are absolutely positive about your decision... then we'll do our best."

"A heated debate between teacher and student?" First Aid almost jumped when the familiar voice spoke up. The young medic, after watching Ratchet walk up to the stranger, finally walked up to the terminal where two of his colleagues, Ambulon and Hoist were already filling reports. The medical engineer sent him a gentle smile as a greeting while Ambulon's sun-coloured optics seemed to follow First Aid's every movement. The fellow tore his gaze away and began typing instead to distract his attention.

"We were just talking." he murmured.

"Yeah, we saw that." Ambulon threw the sarcastic reply at the younger 'bot, "You're fooling no one, Aid. Ratchet is on the edge lately. Maybe having two jobs is proving too much at last."

First Aid fought the urge to curle in his digits, "At last..." he whispered and shook his head, turning to Ambulon, "Ratchet's here because they wanted him."

"Yes." Ambulon nodded, turning back to the terminal, "And you're here because _Ratchet_ wanted you." he voice grew quieter as the emergency medic continued, "I wanted you, too. With your cycles as a traumatologist, you would have made a great fellow. But no, you have to follow the Hatchet like a turbo-puppy."

"Ambulon, we had this conversation countless times!" agitation crawled onto the normally quiet First Aid's faceplates, "It was my own choice!"

"Alright, guys, calm down." Hoist left his terminal to stand by First Aid's side, he put a hand on the young medic's shoulder when doctors, nurses and patients standing nearby were starting to look in their direction curiously, "There's no need for you to prove anything. And Ambulon, leave Ratchet alone. He works hard, that's why he's tired."

"Of course. I know that." the Head of Emergency grumbled and turned to the door, seeing Ratchet converse with the short mech, "And just how does he do that? Head diagnostician here, surgeon at the CII... why does he need so much at the same time?"

"You don't know?" Hoist asked, raising his optical ridges in surprise, "He doesn't keep the credits to himself."

"What do you think, why does he live in a simple apartment?" First Aid murmured, refusing to look at Ambulon while he typed his report, "He doesn't keep all those credits he earns to himself. He has taken in many robots from low castes with serious diseases and is paying the medical bills for them. He's been doing this for stellar cycles. It's perfectly normal for some mechs, you know."

Taking a quick glance towards the door in time to see Ratchet enter with the sparkling in his arms and a frown on his face, First Aid finally saved the file and turned fully to the trauma surgeon, "He knows what he's doing. Just like me." he said and strode away to his patients, taking slight satisfaction at the dumbfounded expression on Ambulon's face.

* * *

"Hey, Crash!"

Crasher looked up from her tinkering and sighed, shaking her head, "You again."

"You can't get enough of me." Rumble grinned and sat down next to the mini-con without waiting for an answer, putting down the two small cubes of energon.

"As you see, pile-head, I'm _busy_." Crasher turned back to the deactivated datapad and cursed quietly as a tiny spark erupted from the device. However, the femme froze, taken aback, when a purple hand landed on hers to brush it aside gently and in her surprise, she let the mini-mech take the datapad from her.

"Not that wire." Rumble said casually and held up the datapad, pointing to its middle where Crasher was trying to find a pattern of the various wires and cables, "You almost fried it. See? This one connects to the magnetic disk. The drive will then communicate with the reserve circuits in case of an overload. You overloaded it?"

Crasher starred at him for a klick, "Eer... yes. Yes, I did, but... how can you tell?"

Rumble flashed that grin again, "Studied mechanotrics." he announced proudly and turned back to the datapad, "Give me that lug."

"You went to school? What a surprise." Crasher gave Rumble what he asked for, one optical ridge raised and a smirk playing on her lips, she leant a bit closer to see what he was doing, "And did you actually finish it?"

The smirk was replaced by a frown on Crasher's face when she saw Rumble's cocky smile fade a little. She intended it as a joke, just a sarcastic tug-of-war, but she didn't think it would affect him. That was probably the first time she saw some depth in the mini-mech who just shrugged, refusing to stop his tinkering, "Junior degree." he finally mumbled, "Didn't have credits to continue from then. But t'is good enough for me." Rumble's tone grew defensive, "I can do minor repairs, so..."

"Okay, I get it. Fate was cruel." Crasher said and opted to watch the mini-mech's hands move around the datapad for a few more klicks until he closed it and announced "Finished!"

"So... you gonna drink that energon with me?" Rumble picked up one of the cubes he brought, the goofy grin returned to his face and Crasher couldn't help laugh at the sight.

"Why not?"

Maybe having the persistently annoying idiot of a mech next to her wasn't such a bad thing.

Soundwave sipped quietly from his energon as he watched the purple twin and the young mini-con Crasher talk over their energon. So far, he had seen nothing wrong in the femme, he often found her next to Megatron and could feel that the champion gladiator was quite fond of her; like a sister. Soundwave hadn't dwelled much into any individual minds in the arena more than necessary, but he couldn't help notice, even without his telepathy, the interest Rumble had shown towards her... and how it unnerved him.

"He did it!" he heard the other twin whisper in disbelief and Soundwave looked down at Frenzy.

"Did what?"

_Get Crasher to drink with him._ Laserbeak answered from his shoulder, _He's been trying for a while._

"And you bet him?" Soundwave raised an optical ridge, though it couldn't be seen through his visor. He felt more comfortable wearing it when they came to the common room for energon rather than their rations, even though they always came early when just a few robots lingered around. The visor helped focus on one thing at a time and gave him a sense of security.

"Yeah." Frenzy made a face, "Now we can listen to his bragging all night long..."

Soundwave noticed the strong, domineering presence even before he entered the room. Now that he had spent some time in the arena, Soundwave could pick out this signature from a thousand and he watched calmly as Megatron walked up to and sat down opposite the telepath and his creations, both giving a nod in greeting. Soundwave could feel the mech had something on his mind, under the layer of cool calmness there was a slight bit of agitation. However, he couldn't - and didn't want to - see more about his thoughts; he wanted the mech to say them out loud.

"You know," Megatron began and leant towards Soundwave across the table, causing the other to fight the urge to back away, "we may not be the Grand Imperium, but we still have our set of security here."

Soundwave nodded, and already knew what would come next. But he let the gladiator continue his confrontation, "I knew you were a specialist at the InfoCore, but I didn't know you were a hacker as well." Megatron stopped for a klick, seemingly studying Soundwave's calm features, "I may not be one, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't notice you had been tampering with my computer."

"I did." Soundwave said, "But I can assure you, no irreversible damage had befallen your files."

"But you sorted them." Megatron went on, "Even encrypted files."

"They were in an anarchic state. I merely made order among them."

His creations - now complete with Rumble who had since returned to their table - listened to the conversation in dead silence. Soundwave had told them what he went out to, in order to see all the things that the champion wanted to put them into, even the things he had not shared with his fellow gladiators yet. He needed to know _everything_, to be ready for _anything_, it was like an instinct for him he couldn't shed like a simple bad habit. Soundwave did not regret any of it, though - his knowledge of getting into places where no other could had granted him respect from his colleagues and bosses at the InfoCore once. Even when he sneaked into things he shouldn't have...

"You are one brave mech." Megatron said, his voice steady and his optics shining brightly, Soundwave could feel a wave of appreciation from him, "I usually don't tolerate this kind of thing... others I considered trustworthy going behind my back." he paused again, leaning forward again on his elbows, "I guess you could have deleted or modified the sign of your presence as well... or altered the files, but you didn't. You wanted to be seen. You wanted me to know you were there... and how much you know."

Soundwave did not answer to that. Of course he did - he wanted Megatron to know what he was capable of, that he could gain control of the arena's whole network with a few types and precisely calculated switches, a thought. Maybe that was the reason his whole behavior was so calm and controlled.

"And?" Megatron asked, seeing that he wasn't going to receive a reply, "What do you think?"

Soundwave took a deep vent to clear his thoughts, remembering all the things, the plans, the numbers, the force behind them all he had seen in those files, "It is... as of yet still a little... overwhelming."

"The idea of the rebellion, or the preparations in plan?"

"Both." Soundwave replied and shook his head slowly, "You want to take your revenge on the Senate... and then what?"

Megatron leant back and hummed, "Revenge... hmm... it may be part of the reason, the only reason for some, but it is rather about bringing forth a change. With fists and guns if necessary. If words no longer work."

"So, in your opinion, fight is inevitable?"

"In my opinion, in my _experience_, it is time for the people to take matters into their own hands. To _make_ a difference, not just wait for someone to do it for them. That is what I was trying to invite you to. And now that you have seen it all... what do you say?"

Soundwave studied the mech before him, the scars on his plates, the fading letters on his chest, the helmet of a miner, the optics that burnt with the brightness of the sun and he took a deep vent, "You need me?"

"To make it all possible..." Megatron's voice was again its usual calm richness, "I do believe I need robots I can trust... robots who see the whole picture, and can control the events around them. Robots who can be dedicated to a cause."

"What would it mean for my creations?"

Megatron looked around Soundwave's creations, meeting each pair of similarly crimson optics before saying, "They are adults, aren't they? Maybe you should let them decide for themselves."

At that, Soundwave frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but Ravage beat him to it, having decided to use his real voice for once, "We will consider everything in time."

Megatron's optics shot to the telepath's eldest in surprise, "Oh... I wasn't aware you could talk."

"We can." Laserbeak's light voice floated from next to Soundwave's audio and he couldn't help the tiny smile upon hearing his daughter's real voice, "It is more comfortable for us using a comm. link. Safer."

"Safer if others underestimate you? Hmm... the element of surprise." Megatron gave a nod, "Then I am glad to know you trust me enough to talk to me."

"I will tell you my decision in time." Soundwave replied and put an arm around Frenzy and Ravage, surprised at how even a mere suggestion made him feel protective over his creations.

"Alright, we're not hurrying. You have much to consider." Megatron stood up from his seat, "Anyway, about the fights... You had good moves, but they were still crude. I'll train you for your next match."

Soundwave watched him leave and he soon left with his children as well. Megatron was right; he had much to consider. After all he had come to know... he was finally willing to give it all his time to think.

* * *

**I know, I know... but... a little review...?**


End file.
